First Timer 2: A Happy Sequel
by RatchetSS2
Summary: Another spark-warming story SEQUEL about sparklings and families, all thanks to Hound and Mirage. More battles are fought, some won and some lost, and will Cybertron finally be their home again like before war? Warning: Slash, sticky stuff, graphics... Also picture the picture of the baby as covered in metal plating and blue energon. Ahaha closest thing I could find to a sparkling.
1. The New Sparkling Era

_A Sequel to First Timer_ :)

READ FIRST TIMER FIRST. :P Or else just be confused. I tried to warn you.

If you have, then read the following with joy and enlightenment.

I really hope you enjoy it as much as you cool cat commenters did in the first story. It's kinda like the same plot.

Please comment and tell me what you think! I have most of it worked out already in my head, and I'll try to include the Dinobots more often since I told [some of] you I would in First Timer but never really did. Maybe once. :/ Sorry.

And if you feel awkward with the younglings calling their "parents" (creators) "Mom" or "Dad", then a fair warning to all. Same goes for slash: No like, no read. :3

Anywaaaaays ENJOY!

(Solar Cycle = about (little more than) 1 Earth year, Joor = about 1 Earth day, Cycle = about 1 Earth hour, Klik = about 1 Earth minute.) jsyk.

* * *

_**~Mid-Autumn. 62 Solar Cycles Into the Future ~**_

"Come on, Jazz, you got it..."

"NNNNNNNGGAAAAAHHHH!"

"C'mon, baby, _push..._"

"You're almost there, Jazz!"

"Prepare that nitrous," Ratchet barked. "And shut up that monitor."

Jazz squeezed Prowl's servo even tighter as the sparkling's helm finally poked through, shouting in sincere pain as loud as he could. Prowl only murmured comforting words into his audio receptor, knowing Jazz probably wasn't even processing them correctly with as much pain he was in. He still stroked his backstrut soothingly, kissing his cheek plate from time to time as fresh tears flowed down them.

"C'mon, Jazz, just a few more pushes," Ratchet said and stroked the saboteur's trembling leg, his digits pressing around the valve walls once more to encourage the sparkling into the world.

* * *

Glazer waved a servo in front of her friend's faceplate, smiling as her optics onlined.

"You okay?" she mouthed, but the femme didn't hear her. She turned her audio receptors back on and smiled at her blue and gray friend and stood up.

"What?"

"I asked if you were okay."

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine, it's Mom I'm worried about. I turned off my audios so I wouldn't hear him screaming."

"Ahhh... Yeah, Nitrix was telling me it wasn't the smoothest delivery. Ratchet had to kick him out," she laughed.

Metallica chuckled as Chromix strode up beside her but said nothing. "Where have you been?"

"I was out with Sunny."

The two femmes looked to each other with the same look. Chromix with the two _other_ twins equaled nothing good, for sure.

"Don't think that way. We did nothing wrong."

Just then an small explosion sounded from down the hall, the three turning to catch a glimpse of the smoke emerging from a room.

"Nothing wrong, huh?"

"That wasn't me!"

Glazer was already running towards it, and watched Wheeljack stumble out. "Just a miscalculation," he replied with a cough to her look of horror.

"Are you alright?"

"He's fine until I get my servos on him," Perceptor scowled as he met up with the femme from walking coolly down the hall. Cyro was at his side, the smaller mech almost an exact replica of both Perceptor and Wheeljack with his new recent frame upgrade. He wasn't quite as tall as the others close to his age, as they all had a few upgrades to go before they reached the heights of their own creators, but being the youngest it was slightly impressive how much he looked and acted like the others.

Youngest after the one currently being born, that is.

"What did you do now?" he finished as he helped Wheeljack stand up more stably.

"I thought your oil would mix with my experiment, but my calculations were wrong."

Perceptor huffed and wiped the few scratches off. "I'm fine," he whispered to his frustration as Metallica and Glazer just giggled.

"Primus, Wheeljack, Ratchet was right. You never do stop blowing things up."

"At least he makes sure no one's in the room with him when he's not sure," the youngest mech spoke.

"Your father is certainly sacrificial," Perceptor joked quietly. The others just chuckled until Mirage ran over, terrified at the sound he had heard, hoping all the younglings were alright.

"We're fine, Mom," Glazer replied for everyone.

But the noble still took his femme's helm in his servos and examined every inch, being his protective self. "Then why is there a deep gash in your cheek?"

"That's from yesterday, remember? Tetris accidentally socked me with your launcher."

"Oh yes," he muttered and brushed his thumb across it. "I swear I'm gonna end up in a home one day."

"Nonsense," Perceptor smiled. "It's just that pregnancy brain, as the humans say. Nothing more."

"Nitrix said Ratchet said you were at that stage were it affects you the most," Chromix chimed in.

"I'm not surprised..." he sighed, and turned back to Glazer with a servo on his slightly swollen abdomen. "You and your sister both were perfect pregnancies, but this one's making me a mess."

"Are you sure it's a femme?" Metallica asked. "My mom says Chromix and I made him a mess too, mainly because of the mech."

Chromix simply thwapped her playfully with his wing.

"Yes, yes, we're sure," he smiled. "110%. The chances of me even producing a mech are highly unlikely."

Another scream echoed down the hall, making Metallica flinch and smile drop. Mirage simply smiled at her as Bumblebee ran over, knowing she was scared for Jazz as she had never been in this situation before. "Don't worry about him," he said softly. "He will be fine. Trust me, this is nothing compared to when _you_ were born."

"Ratchet wanted me to tell you he was almost done, actually," Bumblebee smiled.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he said in about a cycle you could see him. And the sparkling."

"Awww," Glazer giggled. "Cute!"

"You'll have your turn," her creator rubbed her helm affectionately.

"You still have another six joors!"

"Five, actually, and in the meantime you can help your father find the old crib."

"Ugh... Storage..."

"I'll help you, Glazer," Metallica chirped and she followed her to the storage hallway. Cyro looked to his creators in an effort for them to let him go, smiling as Perceptor sighed and motioned him to go on.

* * *

"So?"

Metallica looked to Glazer with wide optics. "So what?"

"What do you think?"

"Oh..."

Glazer just laughed. "'Raj told you, along with everyone else, including me, that Jazz will be fine. Quit being so mopey. He's probably done by now anyway."

"In less than a cycle you can see the sparkling," Cyro reminded her.

"I know, and I'm not mopey... just nervous. For him. For them. It feels weird, with his creator-creation bond, with how much pain he was in, and how scared and nervous he was."

Glazer sighed and nudged her arm with her own as they turned the last corner to the storage rooms. "I know. But on the upside, they let it be a surprise! Tell me what you think."

"I think... I _hope..._ it's a femme."

"Really?"

"Yeah! They're so much nicer than mechs."

Glazer cleared her vocals the way Carly had shown her. "Uhm... I beg to differ. Tetris isn't exactly a dream come true."

Metallica snorted a giggle as they spotted Hound moving in the last room. "I know... She can be a sweetie though, and you guys get along better than most siblings."

"You're lucky you're an only, Cyro," Glazer chuckled. "It must be nice with it being quiet all the time, especially with your creators."

"It gets pretty lonely though, sometimes, when Mom's too paranoid and won't let me hang out with anyone."

"Pffft... I think you'll be fine with a few 'Bots a little older than you, Cy. Chromix and Nitrix are with us most of the time anyway."

"Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen him all joor."

"I think Ratchet let him back in. They both needed him to help with the sparkling."

They walked a few more slow paces, inching their way to the last storage room as Glazer still thought about the sparklings. She turned to her friend and smiled at her as she still looked a little frightened. "Do you know what they're gonna name him or her?"

She shrugged and smiled back. "I think Dad told me if it was a femme they would name her Glyph. I'm not sure what the mech's option was."

"That's a pretty name... But what about you Cy? You been thinking what it would be like with a sibling?"

"Oh, I don't know," he smiled lightly. "It's such a rare possibility I don't really bring it to mind. I, possibly might, would want a little brother though."

"Cute," they both smiled.

Hound turned to the voices he was hearing and smiled at his creation. "Good! Now you can help me."

"Yeah, Mom told me... I thought the crib was still in your quarters?"

"Nope, Ironhide and I moved them all back to storage after the sparkling era..."

"Sparkling era," Metallica giggled.

"You can thank your mother for that, too. You, Glazer, were the start of it all."

"I heard if Mirage didn't have Glazer, Chromix and I wouldn't be here either. Let alone every other youngling, or sparkling currently coming into the world or being formed inside reproductive chambers."

Hound simply chuckled at the strange form of words from her vocals. "Run this up to Prowl's quarters to Ironhide," he gestured to Glazer with a large bar of metal. "It's that last thing he needs."

"I thought their crib was already set up?"

"That one was old and Ironhide didn't want to set it up, since it was larger than average for twins, and this one's not a twin. Ironhide found another one, and I finally found our own we can set up in a klik."

The three sighed playfully as they took turns running back and forth to quarters with white and gray crib parts, rushing through everything as time passed before they were able to finally see the newest little sparkling.

* * *

Jazz was still trembling as he panted, gasping in relief as he finally felt the sparkling fully emerge from his valve, even though it had been just a few kliks. _"You did it,"_ he heard in his audios._ "You're all done, sweetheart."_

The saboteur's processor was still too in shock to grasp the fact he had just given birth to a healthy little sparkling, to process that the strangled cries coming from the other room were his little sparkling's, as he choked on his unstable breaths and shivered as Nitrix wiped his forehelm with a damp wash cloth.

"Ratchet has informed me you have given birth to healthy baby mech," he smiled brightly. "You'll be able to see him in just a minute."

"Thank you Nitrix," Prowl smiled softly in return, proud that the medic's son had become just as loyal as the medic himself. The mostly-red mech returned to Ratchet and First Aid in the back room after he set the monitors. First Aid and the rest of the Protectobots had been called to the Ark by Optimus' orders after they had returned from Cybertron to assist Ratchet and the others for whatever trials they faced. Only Prowl and Sideswipe had gotten major damage, but no doubt easily repairable, but that didn't mean anyone wasn't infected with something that would start to take affect in a few joors or solar cycles.  
However, with First Aid and Nitrix being able to help Ratchet with the delivery, Wheeljack didn't have to walk away from his current project, nor did Perceptor.

Prowl continued to stroke his lover's helm and kiss his cheek plate ever so softly. "Did you hear that?" he whispered. "We have a baby mech!"

"A... baby..." He actually made out a faint giggle. "A sparkling... a mech..."

Prowl smiled wider at the human term. Sure, a 'baby' was just as cute and fit just as well, but a 'sparkling' was what they were used to. A sparkling was what they had made... what Jazz had given birth to. What they would care for, and what they had cared for for the past 62 solar cycles.

"Tell me what you would name your little mech," Prowl whispered lovingly, but also trying to keep him awake. "What did we decide?"

"Piston," he smiled, optics offline. "Pi... Piston."

"I love that name."

"You do?" he panted.

"Of course."

Jazz could only produce a small smile before his vocals trembled. Prowl kissed his helm softly and nuzzled his neck, leaning more on the berth as he rested his chassis against his and send positive and warm energy through the shaking saboteur. Jazz immediately relaxed and sighed, finding enough energy to reach up and kiss his bondmate on the cheek plate.

It wasn't long before Ratchet was walking out with a sparkling in his arms, smiling, with a happy Nitrix and First Aid right behind him. Jazz just huffed a smile as he finally was able to hold him... his little creation. His third little sparkling, or fifth technically but he decided not to think about that. He really couldn't, not with his processor still catching up with relieving the terrible pain he had just overcome, and was still feeling as his valve was naturally shifting back to normal.

"Look," Prowl giggled as he brushed his digit ever so lightly across his little sparkling's cheek plate. "Look at his little chevron..."

The others just laughed at the bright red chevron in the middle of the tiny mech's helm, exactly like Prowl's. He had just about everything he could possibly fit on his frame from both his creators equally, except for wings. Which Jazz was frankly thankful for.

"Hi baby," Jazz hoarsed as he saw the tiny blue optics slowly focus on him.

"Did you decide on a name?" Ratchet asked after a moment. "I know you had one for a femme... What about a mech?"

"Piston," Jazz whispered. "We were... going..."

Prowl just stroked the back of his helm to not have him say anything. With all the energy he'd lost from the labor, he couldn't afford to wipe out his vocals since they were still strained anyway.

"That's a very nice name," First Aid smiled as he recorded the information into the data monitor. "Piston, born at 2:20 PM, and for Earth customs born on Monday, October 4th."

"What a fun birthday," Nitrix spoke so softly only his creator could hear him. Ratchet turned to smile at him and gave a squeeze to his servo to say he'd done a good job.

The five mechs watched the tiny black and white form writhe in Jazz's arms, and eventually soothe enough and lay still as Jazz wrapped the blanket around him more warmly. He held the sparkling closer to him, generating more body heat on the little form, keeping him warm and calm and a happy little newborn.

He offlined his optics after a moment, and rested his helm against Prowl's as the tactician sank down to his level on the berth. His cycling had reduced to less strangled and more normal breaths, Prowl watching as Jazz slowly and peacefully rubbed his little sparkling's backstrut comfortingly.

"Do you feel okay?" Prowl asked. It had been at least a half cycle, Jazz thought as he onlined his optics. Ratchet and everyone else were gone, either in different parts of med bay or something. He looked over to Prowl, smiling tiredly, optics dim, and nodded.

"Should we let them come in?" he whispered.

Prowl smiled and pressed a digit to his comm. link. "If you feel like it."

He nodded again as Prowl paged their twins.

* * *

"It's Prowl!" Metallica jumped as she heard her father's voice through her comm. link.

"What's he saying?"

"The sparkling was born," she whispered. "A healthy mech."

"I could have told you that," Nitrix teased.

"Is he cute?"

"He's adorable. Looks exactly like them both... maybe a little more like Prowl."

"Awww..." the others cooed with bright smiles. Chromix flared his wings with excitement, nearly whipping Nitrix in the back of the helm.

"He says Jazz wants us to come see them!" she finished as the link ended.

"All of us?" Cyro asked.

"I think maybe just Chromix and I should go first," she suggested. "I don't know if he feels up to a bunch of teenagers gurgling over him and the sparkling."

"Fair enough," Glazer spoke. "Tell us when he feels like we can come too."

Metallica waved in acknowledgement as she and her brother left for med bay. When they finally arrived, neither wanted to open the door, feeling too nervous to what their creator would look like as tired and in pain as he was.

But the door opened for them, revealing a smiling Ratchet who let them in. Prowl smiled and motioned for them to come over to them, Chromix's wings swaying nervously as they slowly walked towards their creators and their baby brother.

"Hi baby," Jazz whispered hoarsely to Metallica.

"Hi Mom," she smiled back. Prowl reached up towards his mech standing next to him to stroke the base of his wings, soothing them to not be so nervous.

"He's so... tiny," Lilac spoke again with a giggle. "And so cute..."

The sparkling inhaled choppily as Prowl breathed a smile. "Meet little Piston," he whispered. "Your little brother."

"Piston..."

"Do you like it?"

Metallica looked up to her creator's dim optics. "Yeah! I love it. It suits him perfectly."

The femme walked around and sat on the opposite side of the berth next to her mother. Jazz kissed her helm as Prowl still rubbed into his mech's wings, kissing the one closest to him in a manner of comfort like the way he would when he was a sparkling to settle him.

Chromix simply smiled into the warmth and managed to sit on the edge of the berth next to Prowl. As small as Jazz was, and both the twins taking after him, all four of them managed to rest on the large med bay berth. Jazz shifted the sparkling and moved his arm to wrap around Metallica's backstrut as Prowl did the same for Chromix, the saboteur sighing as his whole family was sitting here with him, relaxing as they took in the newest member.

"He really is a cutie," Metallica whispered in the silence. "Glazer and Mirage and everyone wants to see him too."

"As much as we want them to see him too, Jazz needs to rest," Prowl smiled. "I'm surprised he's hanging on this long for you two."

Metallica nuzzled her helm into Jazz's neck, earning another kiss. "Okay."

* * *

That night Jazz laid in med bay, recharging, by himself with the faint beeping on monitors and dimmed overhead lighting. He had convinced Prowl that he was fine, and could manage a night by himself, considering he was tired enough to recharge the whole night anyway.

Prowl sat in the rec room, sipping his energon cube and stroking his mech as Chromix rested against his chassis. Glazer and Metallica played a newly-learned game with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, one of their few that didn't involve interfacing.

Not that they would mind, except they'd never done it before and Prowl nor Hound would not approve. They were too young, as the adults thought, but secretly they just knew that the younglings were at that age where anyone would _die_ to take them, any way they could. _Especially_ since they were still sealed.

The twins had managed to control themselves as they played the game with the two femmes. They were lovers to Bluestreak anyway, and could 'face him whenever they wanted.

"21!" Glazer whisper-shouted. "Jackpot!"

"I think you got your games confused," Sideswipe snickered. "We don't have a jackpot. Besides, I thought you weren't allowed to gamble?"

"We're not," Metallica reminded her friend with a look. "And stop drinking that highgrade!"

Sunstreaker chuckled as he took his cube from Glazer's servo. "You certainly take after a noble."

"Thanks," she smirked. "Hit me again."

"I'd like to hit something aright," Sunstreaker let slip from his slightly drunk lips. Sideswipe slapped him across the helm at the words, but knowing once the yellow Lambo was drunk and had his desire strong enough, there was no stopping him.

"I think - "

"Hey!" Glazer called to her friend. "I'm the oldest. I can drink a little if I want. Or 'face if I want."

"Don't be a slut," Metallica replied. "You're not that much older than us, and you know Hound would have your aft if he found out you were drunk."

Sideswipe's slightly blurry drunk optics focused in and out on the three surrounding him. "Maybe we should call it a night," Sunstreaker spoke up tiredly. "I need to go release a charge. Comin' Sides?"

"I'm comin'."

"Wait!" Glazer called, holding a servo over her mouth like she would purge her tanks. "I need to know."

"Know what?" Lilac questioned, afraid she knew the answer.

"What it feels like! I wanna help you, Sunny."

The Lambos immediately flashed identical smirks of lust towards the femme.

"Lilac, don't do this..."

"Relax. Hound is on night shift until 4, and 'Raj went to recharge early. We won't get caught."

"Prowl and Jazz aren't!"

"You're too scared to anyway," Glazer smiled, optics already almost purple. "Just one little taste... _Please_ don't tell."

Metallica huffed and glanced to her creator across the rec room. "I had nothing to do with this."

Glazer smiled as Sunstreaker grabbed her servo and dragged her out of the rec room, Sideswipe right behind them. Metallica ran over to her father before he caught a glimpse of the three leaving, but the femme still felt horrible and disappointed in her best friend for getting drunk and having sex for the first time. This was _not_ how she knew her!

Chromix onlined as the three stood and left the rec room, Prowl disposing his cube and leading them to their quarters. The tactician thought he heard a sort of noise coming from down the hall, ignoring it as he figured someone was just interfacing.

Metallica just flinched at the thought.

* * *

"Ooohhhhh... Primus..."

"...Help me..." Sunny finished as he thrusted again.

Glazer hadn't thought about the actual pain she would suffer while getting fragged, just the pleasure. She had almost forgotten about her seal, but the way Sideswipe ripped it off with his denta made her shudder and gasp in pain, only to gasp in pleasure as he immediately thrusted his glossa in that fresh, wet port. But to be honest, the pain was only causing her more pleasure, moaning as she felt Sunstreaker's large spike hit a main sensor node once more.

The thought of overloading made her groan again, wanting it so badly, knowing it would be _so_ worth it from what she's heard about the orgasmic pleasure. She watched as Sideswipe writhed in the floor, his shouts of pleasure increasing in volume as he jerked off his spike until he was bucking and crying out to Primus. His overload looked _amazing..._ The image of his 'fluid spurting from his pressurized spike made her gasp with arousal, clutching onto Sunstreaker's hips once more as he thrusted hard.

"Oh... Oooh... I..."

"Just relax," he panted. "Just let it come to you. Just... overload."

"...I... Sun... Sunny..."

But all she could do want pant, moaning louder and louder until she finally felt that peak of sexual excitement wash through her. Her valve clenched so tightly, her hips bucking as she overloaded _hard,_ a gush of transfluid filling her up inside from that throbbing spike, her own 'fluid gushing out over the exposed part of the too-erect shaft.

Sunstreaker could only cry out again as Glazer moaned and writhed and bounced on the spike, finally stimulating it so she toppled over the edge into another hard and fast overload, Sunstreaker not far behind her.

Primus, so _this_ is why femmes were so valuable...

"You... By... Primus..." was all he could manage before the though of taking his amazingly hot femme made him keen into a third hard overload, bucking continuously as the transfluid shot up into Glazer's rippling valve.

She whimpered, helm rolling to the side as she finally caught her breath. She hoped to Primus she didn't have a cycling attack... She thought she was fine though, and panted and fell back to rest against Sunstreaker's chassis.

"Holy... F... Fu..." Sideswipe panted from in the floor, having watched the two ever since his own overload subsided. "I've never seen a femme so hot... in overload..."

Glazer choked on her cycle of air as Sunstreaker retracted his spike. "I can't believe I just took Hound's daughter... Mech's gonna have my aft."

"Not if he doesn't find out," Glazer spoke softly.

"You are one perverse mech, Sunny." His twin's own lust-filled optics glistened in the dark.

"I need help," he giggled drunkenly. "But thank you for being such a sweet little frag, my sweetheart."

"Anytime. I've never felt so good in my life. I'll have to do this more often."

Sideswipe giggled as he joined the two on the berth, and gave Glazer a hot, wet, long kiss. "If Hound's gone all night, you're welcome to stay with us."

Her smirk was all that was needed before Sideswipe had Glazer riding him like a pro, loving how she was indeed a quick learner.

* * *

"Morning, Prowl."

"Good morning, Mirage."

"Say, have you seen Glazer? She wasn't in her quarters this morning and I can't find her."

Prowl shook his helm. "I saw her last night with the twins but not since."

Mirage sighed and thanked the tactician as he continued down the hall, down every hall... looking for his daughter.

Prowl turned the corner only to run into his own, smiling as Metallica stopped to look at him with wide optics.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Nothing. Have you seen Glazer?"

"No, Mirage just asked me the same thing."

Her huff of frustration made him raise an optic ridge. "Something wrong?"

"Ye - ... No... Nothing's wrong."

"...Lilac."

"I'm fine. I just wish I could find her. Why aren't you in med bay?"

"That's where I'm headed if I didn't have to keep stopping for other 'Bots," he teased. "Come with me. We'll find Glazer eventually."

"Mom doesn't need me... "

But Prowl's servo was already holding hers as he dragged her behind him towards med bay. She sighed and relaxed her protesting clenches, following her creator to meet her other and her little brother.

"Don't say that, sweetheart. Your mother _loves_ you, and told me he feels like he hasn't seen you two in joors."

He reached her servo up to his lips and kissed it, smiling at her and causing her to giggle.

* * *

"There you are."

Glazer whipped around as Mirage walked towards her. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

"I was outside."

Mirage stopped in front of her pale faceplate with a more concerned look. "Are you alright? You look paler than usual."

"I'm fine, Mom."

"...Well... Come on, then. Optimus is holding a meeting with everything in the rec room."

"What about Dad?"

"He's taking a break from his shift last night. Now tell me why you're trudging back there."

Glazer honestly didn't expect her creator to notice how she was stumbling along behind him. It was like nobles really _did_ have optics in the back of their helms...

"I'm... not."

Mirage stopped again and returned to her side, placing a servo on her backstrut and kissing her helm. "Tell me what's wrong, sweetheart."

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just tired. My helm hurts. And I feel a bit sickish."

"Sickish?" he repeated. "What could you have possibly caught?"

She simply shrugged as she stood up more straight.

They walked a little slower to the rec room. Mirage had stopped to talk to another mech among the chatter and chaos, Glazer taking the opportunity to run off and find the twins.

"Sunstreaker," she called and made her way through the mechs to the yellow frontliner.

"Hey Glazer."

"I think something's wrong."

"What's that?" Sideswipe's smile dropped a little.

"Are you sure you didn't catch anything when you were on Cybertron? Like, anything long-term?"

The two looked to each other and back to the femme. "Well, we don't know, Glazer. We don't think so because we've been fine, and Ratchet didn't spot anything. Why?"

"...Because..."

"Glazer?" Sunstreaker placed a servo on her shoulder as she shot a servo up to her mouth, gagging, faceplate even paler.

The two stepped back as the blue femme hunched over slightly, whimpering before she turned and ran out the rec room. She practically jumped for the entrance and to her knees, purging her tanks, coughing and choking as she held her stomach plating, tears streaming down her cheek plates as she suddenly felt Mirage's servos on her backstrut.


	2. One Simple Mistake

**Basis:** G1

**Pairings:** ProwlxJazz, InfernoxRedAlert (smallish HoundxMirage, WheeljackxPerceptor, BumblebeexCliffjumper)

SECOND CHAPTER. WHOOPWHOOP

Hopefully this sickness scenario turned out better than in The Birds and the Beasts... It's sorta different than Cryn's. In a way. But alotta Cybertronian stuff is related or similar to one another, more or less.

I force you to enjoy it anyway.

Ohohoh I'm also debating whether killing off a certain main character (Autobot)... Tell me if I should or not. It'll add tension and drama to my stories of wonderfulness and depression. xD (I'm not telling you who I plan to kill off though. Perhaps tell me what you think?)

Aside from that wonderful thought, enjoy!

* * *

Mirage kissed his femme's helm as they walked down the hall towards med bay, Tetris right behind them as she ran from the rec room to her creator.

"Honey, go get your father," he told her, sighing as she ran off to their quarters.

He simply helped her walk down the hallway, arm around her own as the other stroked her helm. "It's alright," he smiled softly as she trembled again. "Don't worry, baby. You're okay."

The two entered med bay just as Ratchet closed the metal curtain around Jazz's berth. Mirage sat Glazer down on the other one, sitting with her as she choked, her pale lips quivering from the sudden cold.

"I hear we purged our tanks," he smiled. "How are you feeling now?"

"C-Cold," she managed between chattering denta. "My chambers hurt..."

Ratchet's lips pressed more firmly as he thought, and sat down on as he made Glazer lay back. "Have you had any spoiled energon?"

"No..."

"What about... sudden charges to your systems?" he asked as he shined his light in each audio and optic. Her widened optics only made him smile. "Sometimes jump starting can trigger a purge."

"Uh, oh, n-no..."

"Can you hand me a blanket?" he called out to First Aid, the mech coming out from behind Jazz's curtain to follow the medic's orders, heading towards the large storage room where they stashed all the blankets they had found from the sparkling era. Ratchet threw it over her, relaxing again as she brought it up to herself more snuggly.

"What _have_ you been doing, hm?"

"What?"

"Your systems look like you've caught a code or a virus, but I'm not picking up anything. Sometimes it can fool a mech by you simply just doing something wrong."

"L-Like what?" she hiccuped as Mirage stroked the base of her neck, emitting warmth from his chassis to hers.

"Like... a charge, more than jump starting. Or highgrade. Been sneaking anything?"

She looked to her creator, and eventually shook her helm. Even though she knew it was fairly important to tell the medic the truth, she couldn't. Not now. Not in front of her creator.

Ratchet sighed as he couldn't figure out what would trigger such an action of sickness. The only option left would be a disease she'd caught, but that would only have been transmitted from a charge or physical contact, and the medic still couldn't think of any disease she _could_ possibly catch. On Cybertron maybe, but not Earth. Unless she made physical contact, especially sexually, with someone who _did_ have a disease, such as someone from the returned trip from Cybertron, there was no real reason for her to purge her tanks.

Mirage knew for a fact she was not anorexic when Ratchet drew him aside to speak in private.

"No, she's not involved with anyone either," he spoke softly again. "Ratchet, she's never interfaced before."

"I'm just saying that would be the most logical reason," he replied. "I know she's young, but_ you know_ she's at that age where anyone would _die_ to get their servos on her."

He sighed heavily once again. "I know, I know."

"Perhaps she... did sneak a little highgrade, and just can't remember anything."

"She wouldn't do that," he sighed as he glanced over to his femme. "She wouldn't... Would she?"

He shrugged with a look that made Mirage slightly nervous.

"I'm simply asking to do a test on her systems, to see if she has interfaced or what."

Mirage's sigh of frustration told him that he knew he was wasting his breath. Mirage wouldn't and didn't want that test, as he knew his little femme would never do something like that. But when Mirage eventually told Ratchet to do whatever he wanted, he smiled lightly to himself, hoping he would be able to find out what was wrong before what he thought would be true.

* * *

Piston started to whimper as Metallica shifted on the berth.

"It's alright," Jazz smiled to her apology. "He's just tired. Ratchet said he was up most of the night."

"Have you fed him yet?" Prowl asked softly.

"Yes, I was nursing him right before you two came in here, but I think I should try it again."

"Would you like some privacy?"

Jazz shook his helm and smiled to his bondmate. "No, hon, I don't care."

Metallica just smiled as Prowl kissed Jazz on the helm very softly. She always seemed to love how they were so passionate towards one another, how they weren't afraid to love each other in front of anyone. Prowl especially, when he would come in from behind Jazz and wrap his arms around him and kiss his neck every time he saw him in the rec room or wherever. They rarely ever got in a fight, and were always smiling and giggling to themselves when the other loved on him. They were just as equally passionate to their younglings too, which Metallica loved even more, where Jazz would always have an arm around her whenever they were together, and Prowl would rub her back right on the sensitive birthmark to make her feel better and transmit how much he loved her. She noticed how he would always rub at the base where Chromix's wings met in the same manner as well, also to soothe him, as Jazz loved both his twins the same no matter what. They both did. Metallica wished one day she could have a family to do the same.

Jazz looked up at Metallica's silent smile as she gazed off into space. "What's so funny?" he smiled back.

"Nothing," she glanced at him. "I'm just thinking. Do you want me to leave?"

"Why would I want you to leave?" he said, Metallica not even noticing how Jazz already had the sparkling nursing from his spigot. "I hardly ever see you anymore."

"That's not true. Only when you're on shift, and most of the time I'm with you, and now with maternity leave we can spend all joor together."

Prowl chuckled lightly at the words and nuzzled Jazz's neck. "What about me?"

"You too, of course," she giggled.

"We'll have family fun time."

"Yes. Family fun time in the war ship's recreation room," Prowl snickered. Jazz just laughed, accidentally shifting the sparkling and making him whimper.

"Sorry baby," he whispered, Metallica rubbing her thumb over his tiny, wet-looking cheek plate.

"Has he been crying?"

"Just for a little while. Nothing - "

But a sudden sharp cry heard from the other side of med bay startled them all. Metallica actually jumped up and peered out behind the curtain, seeing how Glazer was just whimpering and occasionally bucking as Mirage and Ratchet tried to soothe her.

She had known she had been in med bay since Ratchet closed the curtain, but wasn't sure why. Nitrix came in and stood beside his creator as First Aid walked towards the curtain, smiling at the worried femme.

"Don't worry," he said as they both stepped back inside. "Ratchet's just running some tests."

"Does he know when I'm free to leave? I mean, the sooner the better."

"That's actually what he's having me do right now," he replied as he typed at a monitor. "After an energon draw you're good to go."

Prowl smiled as he took the sparkling as First Aid prepared the needle and wrapped the tourniquet around Jazz's upper arm. The femme couldn't help the shudder as her creator's lips pressed together in silent unease as the needle was inserted roughly but carefully, like a professional.

"The results to whether Ratchet's theory was correct will be in by tomorrow afternoon," the Protectobot smiled. "Have a nice joor, Jazz."

"You too, 'Aid," he smiled back as Prowl helped him off the berth. Prowl let Metallica hold the sparkling as they walked through the back entrance to the other hallway so they wouldn't disturb Glazer, the femme just smiling brightly as she tickled the sparkling's cheek with his soft blanket, making his little lips actually form a small smile and flinch happily.

"Can I show the others?" she asked as they reached her creators' quarters.

Jazz looked over his shoulder to her and the sparking. "...I... suppose it wouldn't hurt..."

"She'll be fine. It's not like she would drop him."

"Maybe you should go with her," he spoke as Prowl had him sit on the berth.

"No, babe. Doctor's orders _always_ after a delivery are to keep optics on you at all times for the next joor."

"Well... just, be careful, honey," Jazz spoke to his femme. "Don't let them hold him just yet since we're not there."

"Alright," she giggled before she ran off. "I'll only be gone for a klik or so."

* * *

Cyro and Chromix were the only ones Metallica could find, along with Cyro's mother. Tetris joined up with them after telling Hound what happened, all three smiling and gurgling over the adorable tiny mech in Lilac's arms.

"Can I hold him?"

"No, Mom says to wait to hold him," she smiled softly. "To wait until one of them is with him. Sorry..."

Perceptor smiled as he was finally able to stop and look at the sparkling. "He is rather charming," he chuckled. "But I was just going to say since he's so new to this environment, perhaps he should stay with his mother for a little longer."

"Oh... I guess," she said, the others sighing in disappointment. "I didn't think of that."

"That's alright, I'm just suggesting."

"Well yeah, I'll take him back."

"I guess I'll go too," Chromix spoke. "See ya guys later."

But as Nitrix suddenly ran up to Perceptor and whispered something in his audio, and by the microscope's sudden look of worry, she stayed. "What's wrong?"

Nitrix simply glanced to her and back to Perceptor. Perceptor just nodded and followed him back to med bay, Metallica looking to Chromix as they all looked to each other in confusion and worry. Wheeljack then stepped out to stop them from following him, having received Perceptor's comm. link as to stay at the lab.

"Nothing's wrong," he replied to their looks. "Ratchet just needed his help. That's all."

"What's wrong with Glazer?" Tetris chirped. "He looked worried."

Wheeljack sighed and looked to his own mech. "Um... He's just running some tests as to why she would get so sick. She's just slightly ill."

"But - "

"Perceptor can answer your other questions. He won't let me say anymore, and I really don't know that much." He reached out to gently grab Cyro's arm. "But he wants you here with me."

He sighed playfully as Wheeljack's helm fins flashed happily. "Fine."

Metallica and Chromix eventually went back to their quarters and handed off the sparkling. She still worried about her friend, and that night before, where she went with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe... What if they got her sick? The thought suddenly donned on her, what if they had been infected with something from Cybertron, and passed it on to Glazer? She was the only one who knew. Glazer would never _tell_ anyone, even if it _was_ important. Oh Primus, what if it was deadly? She would be responsible, for not warning anyone about Glazer's mistake! What if that's why they were being so secretive, to not freak anyone out? Because she was dying? GLAZER COULD BE DYING IN MED B -

"Honey?"

Metallica looked up, her frantic processor suddenly relaxing.

"Something wrong?"

She shook to helm and walked away, only to run into her father. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing..."

"She's freaked about Glazer," Chromix chirped as the sparkling whimpered. "She thinks she's dying."

She flashed him a sudden look of worry and annoyance.

"Honey, Lilac, why do you think that?" Jazz soothed as he walked over to her from the sparkling's room as he just put him down to recharge.

She looked to Prowl, and sighed and shrugged. "I don't... I'm just worried. You know I tend to overreact."

She ignored her brother's look, knowing he knew she was lying. He knew she was keeping something; he could feel it in their split-spark bond, along with the way he knew she thought Glazer was dying. But he didn't know _what_ she was keeping, or why.

She nearly flinched as Prowl placed a servo on her shoulder and rubbed it affectionately, and kissed her helm. "Glazer will be fine. I'm sure it's nothing more than an energon draw and other basic physical tests."

"But..." She wanted _so badly_ to tell them what happened... To tell Ratchet, so he would know and be able to treat her for whatever was wrong. But she couldn't. She told Glazer she had no part in this. She promised not to tell. Besides, she was right, she was just overreacting. What were the odds of the twins infecting her with an overload or two? It was probably just a freak coincidence. "Ugh... Never mind."

Prowl glanced to Jazz and back to her. She slightly jerked away from his grasp and left their quarters to her own, or the one she shared with her twin that is, and shut the door.

* * *

"Stop it, " he giggled at the touch.

"No."

"I-Inferno... Ahh..."

He just giggled back into Red Alert's audio. "No," he whispered again.

Red gasped at the sudden touch to his sensitive helm horn before Inferno stopped with a chuckle as Optimus entered the rec room. "Mechs," he spoke loudly, everyone swiftly focusing their attention on their leader. "The meeting will be adjourned to tomorrow at this time. There have been some issues and some mechs are unable to attend, rather important mechs that need to be here."

Red Alert shifted and sat up rather than lay sprawled across Inferno's chassis on the couch. "Fantastic. I have work to do."

_"We_ have work to do," he purred.

"Inferno."

"Hon, I haven't released a charge in a _vorn._ I need you."

"You need my valve."

"No, I need _you._ My Red Alert... My lover. My _bondmate._ I need to interface with you," he whispered gently. Red simply smirked and leaned into his touch, nipping his neck cables kinkily.

"I haven't had a spike up there in ever," he teased. "You might need to get me warmed up."

Inferno simply chuckled lustfully and gave him a passionate kiss. "No problem at all."

The two left quickly but unsuspensefully as everyone else was moving around, going about to their shifts and whatnot. Bumblebee ran across the room to the energon dispenser and brought back two cubes for him and Cliffjumper, the red minibot smiling at the unexpected act.

"So..." Blaster started slowly as he sipped at his own cube. "Are you two... official now?"

"Official?" Cliffjumper smirked like the boombox was mental, but glanced to Bumblebee. "Well... I guess we've been official for about 50 solar cycles..."

"Oh really?" Blaster's optics actually widened in surprise. He'd known they had been "dating", as much as a bot could on a war ship (it was just fun to use the technical term), for some time now, but official for 50 solar cycles? He smiled at the thought of another bondage ceremony any joor now.

"Yeah I guess..." Bumblebee smiled. "I didn't think anyone cared or noticed."

"Are you kidding?" Blaster nearly choked on his energon. "Everybody's talkin' about you cats! You're jus' about the cutest couple on board."

Cliffjumper scoffed and took a sip. "Thanks," he chuckled.

Tracks then walked up behind the boombox and gave a quick kiss on his neck. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Busy, mech. Energon?"

He shook his helm and smiled at the two minibots, grin widening as they tried to sneak away from the crowd, like the secretive graceful quality spies they were. Ever since Blaster updated them how they were the latest talk, they noticed a lot of the mechs were indeed looking at them and smiling. They just disposed of their energon and exited the rec room like nothing happened.

* * *

Ratchet sighed heavily in frustration as he turned to walk back to Mirage.

"What is it?"

"I don't know. That's the problem," he nearly growled. "I can't find a single thing wrong."

Mirage stroked his chin with his servo like he had been from being nervous. "What do you _think_ might be wrong, despite the medical logistics and analogies?"

"I have no idea. This looks like the old Cybertronian virus, but I don't see how she possibly could have gotten it."

"Cryn's?"

"No, not exactly," he said as he shifted on his other pede. "Cryn's is more love-based. Interface-addicting. I'm talking about Metalact Phosphorobe."

Glazer looked over as her creator and the medic continued chatting. Their voices were quiet, and soft... like whispers. She knew it was probably something neither wanted her hearing. What was wrong with her? _Was_ it Sunny's and Side's fault? She still didn't think she should tell them what happened... That was her secret. And Metallica's, even though her friend said she had no part in it, but Glazer knew she still knew about it. What if she told them? Surely not... They were best friends! Metallica wouldn't do that to her, would she? Maybe to... protect her... To inform the medic in case it was the only way to figure out what was wrong with her...

"I've heard of that," Mirage continued. "I thought Metalact was only transmitted through energon? Like, in the body, not what you drink."

"It is," he nodded. "It's very similar to the humans' disease of AIDS, only much more curable. It's typically passed on through interfacing, but the dominant mech has to have it in order for anything _to_ be passed on."

"Deadly?"

"Very."

Mirage couldn't help the heavy exvent of frustration and sadness. "What, you think she's _interfaced?"_ Mirage's voice rose a little in shock. "Ratchet - "

"I know, I know. I'm just saying that's what it _looks_ like." He glanced over to Glazer, seeing how she quickly looked away from them after she heard their voices rise. "Mirage, please, calm down. I'm not trying to make you upset. I don't even know, yet. I need more information, perhaps from a witness since she won't tell me anything."

"I'm not upset at you, just the fact that she would have interfaced with a random mech, let alone someone with Metalact."

"The only mech that would have even been exposed to the illness would be Prowl, the twins, Optimus, Hound, or Ironhide."

"We can exclude Hound and Ironhide," he said. "And Prowl."

"Optimus wouldn't interface with someone so young. He's not perverse or would get drunk enough."

Mirage sighed to himself as he kept his optics on Ratchet's. "...That only leaves the twins, then."

"She and Chromix do hang out with them a lot," he added.

"Wouldn't you have found such a disease in them when you gave them their physicals after returning?"

"Metalact is a long-term response sickness. It can take deca-solar cycles to take any effect. This also means I should recheck everyone again, especially the twins."

The noble simply shook his helm. "We should get further information before we go into depth. What else do you have to do before she can leave?"

"I think she's good to go," he replied softly. "But considering her circumstances, I would like her to come back tomorrow if she's still this bad, but will more than likely be worse. I'd prefer if she stayed the night as well."

Mirage sighed and nodded again before they returned to the femme. She continued to shiver as Mirage moved the blanket to help her stand up, kissing her as he wrapped it around her again. Ratchet watched them leave the med bay after Mirage's thank you, huffing and feeling terrible that he couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong with her. He didn't want to run certain tests until he was absolutely certain it _was_ Metalact's, and to do so he would need much more information. If he found out she _did_ interface with the twins, he could run the tests, find out it _was_ Metalact's or whatever else it might be, get to creating the cure from Cybertronian mixtures, and healing her, all before it was too late, before Glazer would die from the disease. He would never let this down, if something happened to the femme. But he couldn't cure her unless he was sure.

Glazer, he knew either way, was dying.

* * *

"Baby, shhhh... it's alright..."

Glazer bucked automatically at the touch of her creator's cold servo on her lower stomach plating. "Sweetheart, calm down. You're just cold."

"Sorry," Hound immediately apologized as he walked through the door. "Prime needed me and when I got to med bay you had already left."

"That's alright hon," he glanced at him. "Can you heat her up some energon? And tell Bee I can't make it to our shift."

Without hesitation he left for the rec room. One look at his daughter writhing and whimpering on the berth as Mirage tucked several blankets around her, and his spark dropped. Tetris had told him she thought she was sick because she purged, so he hurried to med bay but Optimus paged him with mandatory requests. He smiled as he ran into Blaster, sticking a cube of energon in the Cybertronian microwave they had made a little after Jazz's second pair of twins were born during the sparkling era. It was much more faster and efficient for sparklings instead of the old heater.

"So how's Glazer doin'?" the boombox strolled up to him.

"I'm not sure. I had to do some things before I met up with Mirage but I just now saw her, and she looked pretty bad."

"Poor femme, hope she's alright, mech."

"Thank you," he smiled. "But I gotta run this to her, I'll see ya later."

"Yeah, no problem, Hound, G'luck."

He quickly returned to their quarters, but slowed down as the doors shut behind him and he saw Mirage on the berth with her, holding her as she hiccuped and gasped in shivers, stroking her helm and murmuring soft things into her audio receptor. Mirage simply rubbed the femme's top blanket against her cheek, softly, like he would to soothe her when she was a sparkling. Her helm stayed buried in the crook of his neck, her body less frantic and more calm, save for the occasional jerks from the shock and the cold.

Hound sat down on the opposite side of his femme, Mirage helping her sit up a little more to drink from the energon. Hound smiled down on her as she looked up at him, optics dim and indigo, and sipped from the hot energon.

He kissed her helm as she sighed in relief, the hot energon steaming through her circuits and warming her just slightly. She let out a small cough as Hound looked to Mirage, a look of worry and slight confusion making the noble shake his helm.

:I'll tell you later:, he spoke through their comm. link. :When she's recharging.:

The scout nodded and snuggled with his daughter again, making her lips form a small smile and rest her helm against him. Both her creators she thought couldn't get any closer to her, couldn't make her feel any more loved than they were right now. She offlined her optics and relaxed, still shivering and taking another sip, knowing that if she did come clean to them, they would still love her no matter what. They would love her this much, still, forever and always. They were her _creators._ They would understand... surely. Mirage did the same as her father, snuggling up a little closer and swiping the blanket across her cheek, comforting her, coaxing her to relax, into recharge.

And within two kliks, it worked.

* * *

"Why can't you just _tell_ us? _Pleeeeease?_"

"It goes against patients' privacy," Nitrix waved his servos in defense. "Ever heard of HIPAA?"

"No."

"Well, even though it's not really health insurance like the organics have, it's called the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act. A medic cannot reveal information about a patient due to their privacy, no matter what the situation."

"That's bull, Nitrix," Chromix chirped. "You're not - "

"No, he's right," Cyro joined in. "Perceptor won't let me say anything either. It's a violation, and since this seems to be something unordinary, he's simply asking us to not speak of it. Mainly because he doesn't know for sure yet and doesn't want rumors floating around."

"Percy or Ratchet?"

"Both."

"Well, that's..." Metallica sighed. "She's my best friend! Now I'm just gonna worry about her more."

"Don't. She'll be fine."

He simply smiled at Metallica's look of frustration. "Lilac, seriously, she's gonna be okay. We're still figuring it out."

But the red mech then had to leave. Metallica watched him as Cyro left as well back to the lab, huffing heavily under her breath. "She's dying," she keened, almost angrily, so low that even her twin brother couldn't hear her.


	3. The Dying Femme

**Basis:** G1

**Pairings:** WheeljackxPerceptor, HoundxMirage (small ProwlxJazz)

Although it may not be so much of a _happy_ sequel yet, I'm working on it. But here's chapter three for ya!

;D

I think this chapter is a lot of explaining and drama... not so much talking. But I think (or hope) you still like it.

* * *

Perceptor couldn't help but smile softly as Cyro giggled to himself. He couldn't remember the last time he had just sat down and relaxed, having nothing to do... He had finished his latest project and frankly was too tired to think of something else to experiment on. Wheeljack was in the public wash racks since their own was still being cleaned from the toxic gas that Wheeljack had failed to maintain during his last project. The microscope couldn't help but chuckle gently at the thought, how Wheeljack would be so careless for something so important to him, yet remained one of the Ark's most happy mechs. They way his helm fins would flash, and the way Cyro would giggle at his father's mistakes, made Perceptor's servo stroke his creation soothingly once more, loving him, watching him play with his father's datapad as he sat on his lap.

Perceptor would occasionally watch, but really had no particular interest in these kinds of games Jazz's twins had shown him and the others. He mainly just relaxed in the large padded rocker they still had from when Cyro was first born, and throughout all his sparkling and toddler solar cycles.

He looked to the wall closest to him, remembering how this rocker had stayed in this same spot for all those years. He still remembered, like it was just yesterday, when he would hold his tiny _tiny_ mech in his tired arms, rocking him, rocking them both as he coaxed the sparkling into recharge.  
Cyro would always be cold. He would never whimper or whine or cry, but would just shiver from the cold. Perceptor nor Wheeljack nor anyone could ever figure out why... Ratchet had turned up the Ark's thermostat, no matter who complained of the all-the-time heat, even during the hot desert summers. The two creators went through countless numbers of blankets and washes, just to keep their precious little creation warm, for the two would think he was always sick. Experiment after test after test would lead them nowhere - There was simply no explanation. Perhaps the little mech would just never really adapt to outside Perceptor's reproductive chambers.

The mech was fine now, though. Still cooler than the average mech, but he dealt with it.

The dark walls would only remind the microscope the way he first shivered, in med bay, just kliks after he was born. Perceptor still breathless from the event, still nervous to be holding such a fragile mech, but instantly knowing what to do to keep him safe. To keep him warm. But thinking how he couldn't take care of such a Cybertronian... made him sick. The entire pregnancy he was sick. He didn't think he could care for the mech, let alone push him into the world. But after he had successfully given birth, to this tiny, precious, gray and white mech, after holding him for the first time, as nervous as he was, he thought, _maybe it wouldn't be so bad._

And he was right. Throughout the years of raising his son, he and Wheeljack both learned everything they needed to know about parenting. Being creators, loving and caring and all the techniques for a baby boy.

Perceptor lifted away his servo from Cyro's side to examine it, looking at the back of his servo, at the bondage ring still engraved into the black metal. He remembered that joor clearly, when Wheeljack sneaked into his room after midnight in his apartment, and proposed upside-down in the window. He gave a soft chuckle, sighing as he turned it slightly to see it more. The gold and silver gloss really still held its shine, glistening in very peak of the Earth autumn sunlight shining in through a crack in their closed quarter's window, on the two in the rocker and the beautiful Cybertronian bondage ring.

Cyro giggled softly again, in the darkened room except for the dull screen lighting, full of silence except for the soft laughter. Perceptor continued rocking slowly, peacefully, with his lightweight mech upon his lap, stroking him lovingly, kissing his helm where it rest against his own.

"I love you," he whispered to his mech. Something he hadn't whispered to him in quite a while; but that didn't mean he didn't during that time. He still felt nervous at times, but with as much love as Cyro had shown him back, loved him and Wheeljack both equally back, Perceptor didn't know what he would do without him.

"I love you too, Mom," he whispered gently. The game stopped, and the lighted screen disappeared. The datapad rested on the floor, his cool lips kissing his creator's cheek plate affectionately.

They shifted so they were more comfortable, both sitting in the rocker together, creator and creation. Perceptor offlined his optics, listening to the complete silence save for his mech's soft whirring of his chassis, the mech trying to keep himself warm. He reached and pulled around the blanket draped over the corner of the rocker and brushed it against the cold mech, Cyro smiling and letting it fall over his frame. He tugged at it so it was more snug, offlining his own optics and completely resting against his mother.

Perceptor generated more warmth from his own body, earning a sigh of relief from his son. The two laid in the silence, in the darkness, rocking gently back and forth.

Wheeljack came in and soon left, not making a sound, smiling to himself as his bondmate and their creation lied in peace in their berth room.

* * *

"Mmmm... Hound... stop..."

The scout chuckled gently and hummed back, nipping Mirage's neck cable again. "But I like seeing you like this."

"Not in public," he smiled. "The younglings are watching."

"Oh honey, you're just worried."

"Of course I am. Don't tell me _you're not_ worried that Glazer is unconscious in med bay, and we can't be there with her."

Hound pulled away to kiss his cheek plate. "'Raj, I am worried. But she's fine now. Ratchet's just running a test, and she's recharging."

"She'll have to spend the night," he spoke. "Without me."

"I'm sure you could stay if you wanted to, hon. Ratchet wouldn't have a problem with that."

"It just... feels so weird, not being able to help her... All I can do is make her feel a little better with reassurance from the creator bond. And get her energon."

"Mirage," Hound just smiled. "You're her _mother._ You can do more than any medic can. You know that, _she_ knows that. She needs _you_ more than anything."

The noble simply sighed as Tetris ran up to him. Mirage expected a shouting or exclamation of some sort, a warning, but he got nothing. The femme climbed up in his lap and rested against him, Mirage taking a moment to register and finally placing his servo around her waist to hold her.

"What's wrong, baby?" he whispered.

"Nothing. Just tired."

Hound smiled and stood up. "I need to get going," he said, Mirage and Tetris sharing their goodbyes as he left for his shift.

"_Now_ can you tell me what's wrong?"

Tetris looked up and smiled. "Nothing's wrong, Mom, really. You've just been spending so much time with Glazer lately, and I feel like I haven't been with you in a while."

Mirage couldn't help the soft smile forming across his faceplate, and kissed her helm. "Babydoll, I'm sorry... I'm just worried," he replied with several strong loving strokes to her frame.

"I know. Me too."

Prowl then walked in, Metallica right behind him with the newest little Autobot in her arms. Mirage's other servo rested over his swollen abdomen, now a little larger than yesterday, as Prowl unscrewed the lip to the bottle and stuck it in the microwave.

"Are you gonna heat up the other one?" Metallica asked her father.

"No, he doesn't drink much in one sitting. Jazz only needs one right now."

Metallica looked down as the sparkling cooed again, but unsoothingly, almost like he was about to cry.

She sighed when he did, choking the tears out until he was screaming and writhing in her arms. Prowl simply smiled as he offered to take her, Lilac watching the bottle as he lightly bounced the tiny sparkling.

"That's warm enough," he said. "I don't think he cares anyway."

She pulled it out and handed it to him, Prowl shushing and smiling as the sobbing sparkling's quivering lips finally found the bottle and started to suck from it.

* * *

Sunstreaker let out a strangled cough as Ratchet returned to Sideswipe. Both sat on a berth side by side, coughing like there was no tomorrow, grunting to themselves in pain and cold, as only Sunny had purged his tanks twice. So far.

"I was correct," Ratchet spoke up after a moment. "It's the exact same symptoms as what Glazer has."

The yellow mech's weak optics flickered over to the femme across med bay from him. She lied on the berth, wheezing, _dying,_ slowly dying, though Ratchet was the only one who knew. And by the looks of it, if he didn't get to curing them, the twins weren't far behind her.

Her optics were still online, but very dim, and no doubt far weaker than his own. They would flicker, out of focus and back, as she gazed off at the wall to her right, almost to the ceiling. Ratchet had her sitting slightly upright, slightly laying down, her helm resting against the support board somewhat comfortably.

He truly felt terrible. Absolutely petrified about what he'd done. He sat there, so lost in his thoughts, almost like he was unable to move, completely unaware of the medic speaking his name to get his attention.

"Go sit on that other berth," he repeated as the frontliner finally looked his way, gesturing towards another berth. He did as told, optics back on Glazer as he stumbled, sitting up on the berth very tiredly.

After a few more grunts of pain from Sideswipe and Ratchet's testing, after a moment of silence, Glazer turned her helm towards the two. Her gaze immediately locked onto Sunstreaker's, her lips parted as she wheezed another deep cycle of air, starting to be desperate to breathe normally.

They stared at each other. Their optics were equally dim, equally tired and weak, Glazer's faceplate as white as snow as Sunny's was just barely that light gray it usually was. His helm fins were almost a light gray and baby yellow, his whole frame having faded drastically. Glazer's entire plating was nearly white, as light gray as she already was, with the few patches of blue and green now being a soft gray-blue.

He mouthed a word to her, but not even he could tell what he had just said. Glazer did nothing.

"I..."

He closed his lips. He knew this was all his fault. If he hadn't been so perverse... hadn't been so desperate to release. If he had just walked out with his twin in search of their lover, their _real_ lover, not this innocent femme whom _they_ had gotten drunk and excited. If only... Then she wouldn't be here, suffering like they were, like they deserved... She deserved nothing. Not to be punished by her two creators for something that was mainly Sunny's fault.

"...I'm... Sorry..."

Glazer still remained motionless, her gaze as cold as her circuits. Her lips were closed now, almost like a scowl towards him and his brother.

Having mouthed the two words, no one heard him. He even doubted that Glazer was awake or online enough to process what words his lips had formed.

But when her own gave off a soft smile, a smile so small it was barely noticeable, but just enough for Sunstreaker to make it out, he smiled back, just as small. Just as light, just as weak, but with just as much meaning as hers had.

Her helm turned back to face the wall as Ratchet stood in front of the frontliner. "Are you aware of what exact symptoms you are facing?"

Sunstreaker nodded. "Mainly cold..."

He hummed and left. Sideswipe faced his brother, optics just as, if not more, dim and weak as the other two. Sunstreaker remembered out of all of them, Sideswipe would have it worse, being the one who stumbled upon the metal crystals in the first place. It was not by touch, but by the vaporous fumes produced from the small crystals, that made one sick. The toxic gases would release into the air, straight upright, and would attach itself to anything close to it. The crystals, being located naturally in the middle of vast open spaces on Cybertron, would be _lonely,_ as Perceptor would describe them before the war when he was still working in his lab with his other friends who died, innocently, during such battles, from the Decepticons; Once something, or someone, was close enough to the crystals, they would draw the gases towards themselves, and make themselves sick. Accidentally, of course, for it was something they could not help, nor see, since such crystals were almost microscopic, buried deep within the Cybertronian metal floors.

Ratchet knew all of this as well, as he and Perceptor and Wheeljack would share such scientific and medical information. But even with First Aid and his own son, a medic assistant, he would need the microscope's knowledge and help in order to cure the three.

But that's what made Ratchet upset. It would be much easier to cure and figure what was happening to the twins, since they were the dominant mech if they _did_ interface with Glazer and were exposed directly to the sickness, but since he didn't know for sure yet, there wasn't a thing he could do for the femme. He could give her a few blankets and have Mirage comfort her, but until he knew the facts, until he was able to cure her, she was hopelessly dying right there on the berth.

What worried him more was when he would have to break the news to Mirage and Hound.

_"She's dying,"_ he would have to say._ "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."_

Mirage would cry. Hound would be mad, that this medic, whom he'd known most of his lifestream, who had delivered this same femme into the world, could not help her anymore. He was done. There was nothing he _could_ do. Not without much more information.

And whoever he would go to to _find_ such information, he didn't have the slightest.

Glazer's creators would not know; Ratchet already knew Mirage had no idea, and still believed she would not do such a horrible thing as to lose her virginity with two adult mechs. Perhaps Glazer's friends? Who would be close enough to her to know?

Within the cycle, after he had Sunstreaker and Sideswipe unconscious on their separate berths, and Perceptor was now in the med bay contacting Ultra Magnus to retrieve what they needed from Cybertron, Ratchet went out in search of the noble and the scout.

It was time, he thought. If he waited any longer, it would be too late.

* * *

Ratchet had pulled Mirage into private to speak with him. He didn't want to, of course. This was too personal. He had told family members that their sick one was dying, before the war as a full-time doctor, yes, but never in a situation like this. Not when he knew the mech personally, for so so long, and his daughter as well. The first sparkling into the Ark, and the first to leave.

When Mirage heard the news, he burst into tears. Ratchet could do nothing more except hold him, comfort him, as he knew the mech for too long to _not_ comfort him. On the Ark, they were all family, no matter what size or shape or personality.

His shoulders were slick from the noble's tears, but that was okay. He let himself cry, in sympathy, rubbing his back, rubbing his neck, as he shushed him, _loving_ him, like he was his own creation.

They stayed in the storage room for over a cycle, crying, sobbing, preparing the noble for the worst. As much as Ratchet didn't want to go through this, for Mirage to go through this, he needed to. Mirage needed this. He needed to prepare for the loss.

Mirage would tell Hound, and Hound would cry too. They would sob together, as two creators sobbing over their most loved one dying at such a young age. 62 solar cycles... Optimus himself was 9,000,000 solar cycles old.

Glazer's friends would have to face the truth as well, he knew. Perhaps Mirage would pass it on to the adults, especially Jazz since he was his best friend, and they would tell their own creations. Perceptor already knew, but decided he would tell Wheeljack and Cyro at a later date. Perhaps tonight, when everyone would find out, and would all share Mirage's sympathy together.

After another cycle the noble pulled away, and said nothing. He had stopped crying, his flawless white faceplate streaked silver from the tears.

He glanced up at Ratchet, optics dark with fury and worry and utter sadness. He still said nothing.

Ratchet stood when Mirage did. They left the storage room, walking slowly, side by side down the hallway, back to med bay and to tell Hound the horrible truth.

* * *

Prowl's faceplate fell into his hands when Jazz told him the news. He sighed, frustrated, sorry and in pain for Mirage.

"How are we gonna tell Lilac?" Jazz whispered, almost in slow motion.

Prowl shook his helm in an effort of saying he didn't know. Didn't have the slightest.

Wheeljack took it rough as well. When Perceptor broke it to him, slowly and softly as Cyro was recharging, the scientist nearly broke out in tears. He needed his help, he told his bondmate. He needed him to retrieve what they needed from Cybertron, the natural formulas to cure them.

Wheeljack agreed to do so, even though it didn't necessarily mean they could save Glazer. Being the recessive one, not being exposed to it directly, Ratchet couldn't do anything and risk harming her for something that wasn't really there. The cure would only make her worse if it was for the wrong illness. He had to wait until he knew exactly what she had and how she got it. Glazer wouldn't tell him anything, and was too weak to anyway.

She knew she was dying. The sickness made her feel like she _wanted_ to die. Not kill herself, but simply let the illness take over.

But at the same time, she couldn't. She was too weak to cry, to sob over losing her two creators, her father, her mother, her friends... She didn't want to leave them. She didn't want to die. To be gone forever, in the Well of Allsparks.

Metalact was taking over her processor, slowly, painfully, progressively.

She could immediately feel when her mother was crying. Sobbing over her, when he found out she was dying. She could feel it even harder when Hound started to cry, feeling the bond of both her creators sobbing together in sympathy. For her. The Ark was crying, for her.

* * *

The next morning Wheeljack left with Ultra Magnus for Cybertron. Chromix flared his wings as the sparkling cooed, Metallica still upset from the night before, when her mother told her the grave news, too upset to even drink any energon.

She was Jazz's femme, for sure.

"Sweetheart," Prowl repeated softly. "Please, honey. Drink this."

She stood facing the entrance, like she never heard him.

"Lilac, come on, don't do this. You haven't had anything for a joor."

She turned and accepted the cube of energon from her father, took a sip, and handed it back to him and refaced the entrance.

"Metallica."

"It's all their fault."

Prowl paused. He looked at the energon and swirled it, and looked to the back of his femme's helm. "What is who's fault?"

"They got her sick," she nearly growled, Prowl telling she was close to tears. "It's all their fault."

Prowl walked and stood by her side , subspacing the energon, and placed a servo on her shoulder and leaned down to kiss her cheek plate. "Who?" he asked into her audio, somewhat worried. Who got her sick? That was the question everyone was asking, Ratchet especially. If she knew, and told him, that would be it. They could cure her.

But when she hesitated, Prowl nuzzled her, coaxing the answer out of her. He kissed her again, breathing warm air into her audio like she liked it. "_Who,_ Lilac?"

"...I can't say."

"Why not?"

"I promised her. I wouldn't tell."

Prowl sighed to himself and pulled away. "Do you know, that this one answer, as to who got Glazer sick, will save her life?"

"Maybe she deserves it," she scowled. Prowl was truly shocked to hear those words from her mouth. "She was stupid enough to do it."

"Honey," Prowl just huffed a bit of air. "Understand, sweetheart, that mechs, and femmes, do things that they regret. It's called _mistakes._ And there are some we can't control, and may need others' help to get them through it."

"Then why would she do it in the first place?"

"Perhaps... She wasn't thinking. Everyone has those moments. Even me."

She glanced her father, wet optics flickering with sadness and anger. "It's... a secret."

"Metallica, this _secret_ is a life or death situation. It could save her life, once you tell me. _Please,_ baby."

Her helm turned back to look out the Ark entrance. "Who got her sick?" she heard him ask. "Tell me how you know."

"We were playing a game," she spoke after a long moment, very softly. "With Sunny and Sides. They had highgrade and made her try it, and she kept drinking from it."

"Glazer?" he asked. Metallica nodded.

"It was late and Hound had a late shift so she agreed to go with them," she went on. "They wanted to release a charge, and she wanted to see what it felt like."

Prowl sighed as Metallica's few tears trickled down her cheeks, her vocals quivering slightly. "...She... told me not to tell... and that was the last time I saw her healthy."

The tactician only stroked her side as he wrapped his arm around her. He gave her another kiss, a very light one, as she held back tears successfully. "Why don't we go tell Ratchet."

And they did. The walked to med bay, silently, Prowl's servo playing with hers for comfort. When they got there, Mirage was on the berth, holding his recharging dying femme, but stood up as Prowl gave him a look to come to him.

Mirage broke out in tears as Metallica told Ratchet everything. Tears of worry, not expecting that it was _true_ that Glazer interfaced with the twins, but mainly tears of immense joy that they could cure her now.

Out of shock and surprise Ratchet ran to his communicator, and paged Perceptor for everyone to hear.

"Tell Wheeljack to double the quantity," he exclaimed. "We're gonna save Glazer's ass."


	4. Accidents

**Basis:** G1

**Pairings: **ProwlxJazz, HoundxMirage, WheeljackxPerceptor

SLASH TIME :O

at the end.

I haven't been doing a lot of graphic le sexy times have I? I'm honestly sorry. So here ya go.

Alsoooooo there is some drama... cuz imma drama llama. A crier. But dun worry it gets better.

Also thanks to all who comment/fave/follow! Comments are awesome :)

enjoy!

* * *

Jazz remained in the sparkling's rocker for at least a cycle, rocking them back and forth, to let the sparkling relax and recharge. It was still morning, so he wouldn't put him down anytime soon, but with Glazer and his best friend so worried over her, he didn't really want to do anything else.

The metal door was slid open halfway so not too much light shined in. Piston would coo occasionally but would rest peacefully against his mother, optics tired but online.

Jazz rubbed his back, transmitting warmth to his little frame form the cold October air flowing throughout the Ark. Even in the desert, it could still get cold enough to make sparklings uncomfortable.

Jazz onlined his optics as he heard his twins giggling in the other room, in his and Prowl's main quarter's section. He heard Prowl's voice whispering, telling them to quiet down, Jazz was in the back room. Jazz smiled hearing his voice, thinking how lucky he was to have such a mech, to help him through all his tough times, encourage him, love him like crazy.

They were crazy about each other, and always would be. He couldn't wait until this war was over, and they would move back to Cybertron, as a family, living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, like there had been before the war. As much as he got paid as a DJ, he never moved out of his apartment until the very beginning of the war and he moved in with Prowl after they got bonded.

The tactician was already working for Optimus, as the planet was just on the verge of war with the Decepticons. It wasn't planet-threatening, yet, just day jobs to monitor them and stop them from whatever they were doing so evil. Even as a new bonded couple, Jazz worried about Prowl, every day as he went to work at the Towers of Iacon with Prime and the others.

Prowl had wanted to try for a sparkling, but Jazz thought it would be too dangerous. _What if something happened to you?_ he would say. _I couldn't raise him myself._

So they waited, for solar cycles, as the war only got worse. But after the solar cycle they thought all hell would break loose, everything stopped, and everything went back to normal, for quite a few solar cycles.

Jazz agreed to try for a sparkling with Prowl, being his happy saboteur self and they tried pretty much every night, interfacing, passionately, sparkmerging, but after several attempts nothing happened. They went to Ratchet, Jazz's adoptive creator of course, but the medic could not find a single thing wrong.

_"Keep trying,"_ he would smile. _"I have mechs who are the same way, but enough merges will soon jump start it. And sometimes you already _are_ pregnant, but it won't show for a while."_

They took his advice, but still nothing. They took a break, but when the war started, they joined as Autobots.

But by then it was too late. After about a solar cycle of living on the Ark, Jazz discovered he was pregnant, by an old-fashion pregnancy test, with _twins._

Prowl took the news hard, not thinking they could raise twins in such a harsh environment. Ratchet, fortunately, had joined as well, and helped them through, talking to Prime, convincing to not abort the sparklings. To let Jazz have them both.

But then the most tragic event happened, and it changed him. After solar cycles of mental therapy he was back to his normal Jazz.

Then Mirage got pregnant and had a femme, being the start of a whole generation. Jazz looked down to his little mech in his arms, thinking without Mirage and his femme, his (second pair of) twins wouldn't be here, let alone his little mech.

The saboteur couldn't hold back a soft chuckle as he thought about how Piston had been the same situation. Even if you didn't merge, you could still get pregnant by the data transmitted through the spike during overload. However, as rare as it was, Jazz couldn't remember.

They had both been a little drunk; Metallica and Chromix were at Glazer's quarters spending the night, and so Jazz and Prowl visited the rec room and got caught up in the party-mood, played by the Lambo twins. A little too much highgrade and they were back in their quarters, throwing Jazz on the berth and kissing each other madly, interfacing roughly, passionately, Jazz losing count after four overloads. He couldn't remember much save for what seemed like a bright light from their chasses, but couldn't remember if they sparkmerged or not.

It could have possibly been just a bond, Jazz remembered thinking after he woke up the next morning with his armor off snuggled up next to the armor-less Prowl. His processor still hurt from the intense fragging and the slight hangover, and he barely noticed the slight different feeling of his chassis.

So when Jazz ran up to Prowl the next day with the white pregnancy test and whispered in his audio, Prowl was shocked, but then bursted out laughing, still not quite himself from the night before but happy that Jazz was pregnant again.

_"Honey,"_ he said, worried. _"I... I can't be pregnant again. I can't go through that again."_

But when Ratchet had told him it was a single, not twins, he soon found himself happy, preparing for a third sparkling, he and Prowl and their twins all excited. Not that he wouldn't want twins again, he just didn't want to go through that moral pain for a third time.

The more Jazz thought about it, he referred, to himself, to Piston as an _accident._ An accidental pregnancy. But he knew, as his servo would always be resting on his large pregnant abdomen, circling it, knowing there was a little forming sparkling in there, that he would be just as happy.

And when the joor came where Jazz went into labor, he gave birth to the mech, but as painful and slow as it was he quickly forgot all about it as soon as he saw that accidental sparkling looking up at him, clean and wrapped in his soft little blanket.

He loved him just as much, of course. He couldn't stop loving him. He was too precious to him, as they rocked in his back room. He started to whimper as Jazz nursed him, revealing his spigot and relaxing as the sparkling sucked from him.

By noon Jazz laid the recharging mech down in his crib and left his room.

* * *

"No."

"...What do you mean no?"

"I don't want you to go."

"Honey - "

"Don't give me that _it's-mandatory_ shit, Prowl. Cybertron is still just as bad as it has been. We have a newborn."

"I understand that, sweetheart, but this is more important. With the Decepticons not being active for over 60 solar cycles, Prime _needs_ us stationed up there."

"I'm not bringing our _kids_ to somewhere so dangerous," he replied. "I'm not gonna live up there for however long."

"Jazz, you don't have to right away. A few others and I are only being stationed up there for a little while, and you'll come later. It's like the Ark but... not crashed into a mountain. It's Prime's facility."

Prowl's smile didn't work. Jazz was clearly upset.

The tactician merely sighed and put his servos on Jazz's shoulders, and pushed him back against the wall and nipped his neck. "Don't worry, baby," he whispered kinkily and kissed his neck again. "Everything will be fine."

"You always say that," he almost groaned to himself. "I... ugh... Stop it... I..."

"You... what?"

Jazz growled at Prowl's teasing and tried to nudge him away, but Prowl had him practically pinned against the wall. He started kissed downwards, towards his shoulder, his arm, back to his neck and jaw plate.

"Hu...ugh... Prowl... Please..."

But he didn't stop; his smile only grew, kissing and nipping him until he got out a small moan of pleasure. He felt Jazz's servos slid up around his waist, pushing him away but also dipping into sensors. His wings flared, but he didn't stop.

"You-You're trying to change the... co-conversation..."

"I know," he smirked. "And it's working."

Jazz swore at him in his audio but relaxed under the kisses. He wouldn't try to escape... Prowl would be done soon.

But after another few pleasurable nips and sucks, Jazz was leaning back into him, his servos sliding up to his wings as they eventually found each other's lips. He succumbed, the two diving in and out, kissing each other passionately, wetly, until Prowl's servos dipped down and traced Jazz's panel and the saboteur slipped away with a happy keen.

"Come back here," Prowl chuckled.

"You'll have to catch me first," he replied, giggling as he exited their quarters. Prowl slyly chased him to the rec room, managing to barely grab him and whip him around to give a hot deep kiss before they entered.

He giggled softly to himself as the doors opened and they walked in together, watching Metallica sit with Piston against her chassis.

"What did you guys have to talk about?"

"Nothing, sweetheart," Jazz looked down at her. "Just... Autobot stuff."

Chromix flared his wings and stood up as Nitrix walked in. In fact, Nitrix had a hard time finding someone _not_ staring at him.

"Ratchet kicked me out," he answered to their looks for him to tell them how Glazer was. "But last time I checked she was still unconscious."

They went back to their own conversations at that, disappointed they couldn't know more. He noticed Metallica's tired and worried optics, turning away as he made contact, facing back towards her mother as he sat down across from her.

He joined them, sitting next to the femme. "I'm sorry," he almost whispered. "I know you two are close. But Ratchet said she'll be okay."

Jazz smiled and looked for his daughter's reaction.

"She... - " But she stopped. She wouldn't criticize Glazer anymore, even if she was a fool. An idiot. Right now she just wanted her to be okay. She turned a little as her vocals quivered, but managed to contain herself as she felt Nitrix's optics on her. "...Thanks," she finished quietly.

Jazz looked to Nitrix and gave him the same soft smile, Nitrix knowing the smile as one to say thank you but he would talk to her. Ratchet would give him the same one sometimes. He nodded and stood up and left, Metallica glancing at him and looking back to her creator.

"Sweetheart," Jazz sighed. "Your father's right. This isn't healthy."

"I'm just as healthy as you are."

"I know it's hard, baby, believe me. I've been there... My own creators, my first sparklings, you remember. When Prowl's best friend died he was a mess too. Everyone goes through this."

Her optics faced back down to the table, and the energon her mother had pushed in front of her. "Then you should know why I don't want any energon."

"I'll heat it up for you."

"I'm not a sparkling."

Jazz quirked a smile and tilted his helm, Metallica huffing at his look. "Fine," she scowled, Jazz chuckling as he took the cube and walked to the old heater.

* * *

Mirage onlined his optics as the cold frame in his arms started shifting. He looked down, smiling as Glazer onlined, stroking her as she gave a rough cough.

"Hi baby," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

She tried to sit up but the position they were in made her stay. She was too weak anyway, Mirage knew. "C... cold..."

"Still?" he smiled, tugging at the three blankets covering her entire body.

She didn't do anything but nod very slightly. Ratchet, as if he had been hearing the conversation, come over with two more thick blankets and threw them over her, he and Mirage wrapping her snuggly.

Another good cycle past with the twins still in stasis across the med bay, but Glazer lied awake next to her mother. Mirage generated heat through her frame at a regular basis, making sure she was comfortable but not overheating. He kissed her helm once more before she weakly looked up at him, and actually gave a soft smile.

"Metallica told me you cried," she spoke hoarsely. "Why?"

"Why?" he mocked. "You think I wouldn't be sobbing over my little femme dying?"

"I was... *cough* stupid enough to do it," she replied, vocals strangled and rough. "I didn't mean to make... make you sad..."

Mirage sighed and wrapped his arms around her tighter. "Babygirl... Don't think like that. It was a mistake. You didn't know this would happen."

"I-I'm still *cough* dying..."

"No," he whispered slowly. "No, baby, you're going to be alright. Ratchet's going to fix you. I promise."

Glazer parted her lips to speak, but closed them as she heard the quivers in her creator's vocals. She didn't want Mirage to cry again, not now. She didn't want him to feel so sad. She kept her helm rested against Mirage's chassis, listening to him cycle, feeling the heat being generated through to her once more. His lips pressed against her helm, soft and cool ones, kissing her, loving her, as he swiped a corner of the blanket against her cheek and made her smile.

* * *

But that night Mirage couldn't help himself. Hound merely held him as he cried, shushing him, kissing him, comforting him as they rocked on their berth.

"Sweetheart," he soothed, but Mirage remained buried in his frame. "'Raj, honey, she's going to be okay. Ratchet promised."

"She... thinks she's... still dying," he heard him quiver and gasp. "She... acts... like... we need to move on..."

"You know that's not gonna happen. It's the temporary medication Ratchet put her on."

"She's not crazy."

"I never said she was," he smiled as Mirage pulled away. "I'm saying medication can make you think or say things you don't mean. And you're just worried, baby; you making yourself hear what you don't want to hear."

He hiccuped as he started to settle down, as he started to stop crying. The back of Hound's servo rubbed against his cheek plate, his forehelm resting against Mirage's as he smiled. "Trust me, baby. Trust Ratchet. Glazer's going to be absolutely fine."

Mirage's quivering lips finally formed a light smile, optics adjusting to focus on Hound's so close to him. Hound kissed him, his servo sliding to the back of his helm as they kissed slowly, with passion. Hound broke it to kiss his tears, kiss his wet cheek plates, and hum in his audio, telling him everything was going to be alright.

Mirage smiled a little wider as he felt Hound's servo rest on his large abdomen. "Two more joors," he whispered, earning another kiss from his bondmate.

"Glazer will be in med bay," he spoke softly. "I don't want her to see me in pain."

"She might be able to be back in her quarters or even the rec room. Wheeljack is supposed to be back with the formulas late tonight."

"He is?"

Hound nodded. "Ratchet will start the main dose right away."

Mirage sighed as Hound kissed him on the lips again. "But you seem like there's something more than just this situation, 'Raj," Hound finished.

"Hound," he huffed in frustration. "It's the same situation. I can't get over it what she did."

"She didn't know, Mirage. She was curious."

"And look where that got her!" he exclaimed. "Sick. I can't believe she would do something so horrid."

"Interfacing is a natural action, baby."

"Not as young as she is." Mirage offlined his optics and sat up, pedes draped over the edge of the berth. Hound sat beside him, arm still stroking his. "She did this... because she wanted to see what it felt like. She wanted to be loved."

"Doesn't she know she _is_ loved?"

The noble looked over to him. "I'm not a femme," he almost started to cry again. "I can't possibly know what it's like to _be_ a femme. We're both mechs... Yes, I'm her mother, but even with the bond I can't help her with... _femme_ feelings. I can't blame her for not telling me what she feels."

"Mirage - "

"She obviously didn't feel loved enough, Hound. We couldn't give her what she wanted."

Hound sighed and closed his mouth. He took Mirage's servo and brought it up to his lips, kissing it and bringing the noble closer to him. "Baby, you're blaming yourself. How could you have possibly known she didn't feel loved, or would do something like that?"

"I know, Hound. I just... wish I _could_ have known, and then I could have helped her. I don't know what to do."

Hound smiled lightly and kissed his lover's cheek plate. "What we're going to do is love her anyway," he said softly. "We're going to show her we _do_ love her. We're going to get through this, 'Raj, as a family."

The noble simply smiled at the words and leaned in to Hound's touch. "Promise me..."

"I _promise_ you, baby, everything is going to be _fine._"

* * *

Jazz shot up on the berth at the strangled cry from across the hall. Prowl slowly onlined at the movement and sat up next to him, looking at him.

"What is it?"

"Didn't you hear that?" he said as he stood up and ran to Piston's back room. The sparkling remained deep in recharge; he couldn't have made a noise like that and just fall back to sleep.

Prowl stood up, cautious as Jazz ran to the main door. "Jazz, what's wrong?"

But another cry wrung through their audios, and Jazz was out the door.

Prowls stood in the doorway as he watched Jazz dash into their twins' quarters across the hall, worried now with the door open that the cries were louder, like they were coming from that room. When he heard Jazz call his name, he was by his side within a few steps, watching as Metallica writhed on the berth covered in sweat.

"I don't know what's wrong with her! She won't wake up..."

Prow simply sat on the berth and shook her. "Lilac," he soothed, and looked to Jazz. "I think she's just having a nightmare."

"Why?"

He shrugged as he shook the femme again. "Lilac, wake up..."

Jazz went around to the other side and did the same as Prowl. She stopped writhing but still whimpered, almost as if she was in pain, and with a few more jerks her optics onlined brightly.

"Lilac," Prowl soothed again as she suddenly shot back away from them, thinking they were her attackers. "Sweetheart, it's just us."

Jazz's agape jaw closed as Metallica's panting simmered down. "Baby, what happened?"

"I don't know, what happened?" she hoarsed.

"You were having a nightmare," Prowl said gently. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know... Why was I having a nightmare?"

Jazz and Prowl glanced at each other. "I don't know, baby." Jazz then simply scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her entire frame quiver with fear, Prowl chuckling at the amount of sweat dripping off onto Jazz. "But you're okay now."

They sat there in the silence for a while, Metallica's shivering eventually settling down.

"Honey, you can go recharge if you want," Jazz said after a moment as Metallica's optics went offline. "I'll stay with her for a while."

Prowl smiled and stood up, leaning down enough to kiss Jazz's helm softly. "Are you sure?"

Jazz nodded. "Need anything?" Jazz shook his helm.

"Alright," Prowl whispered as he exited her quarters. He glanced over to Chromix across the room, still out like a light. "Goodnight, baby."

"'Night, Prowler," he smiled, and as the doors closed he lied Metallica and himself down on the berth, his arms wrapped around her as they both drifted off into recharge.

* * *

Perceptor couldn't recharge that night either for some reason he and Wheeljack kept trying to figure out. Wheeljack, to keep him calm, offered a 'face, Perceptor surprisingly taking it. Maybe sex would tire the microscope out, they thought.

But it did just the opposite. Perceptor couldn't hold in his cries as overload after overload erupted through his systems, the charges merely adding energy so much that recharge would be nearly impossible.

Wheeljack groaned as he continued pounding the tight valve, keening as his own overload finally washed through him.

"Oh, dear Primus... Wheeljack this is not helping..." the microscope spoke weakly after his third overload. "I believe this is just making it worse."

"Maybe... if I go hard enough..." His helm fins flashed in the dark. "I can send you into stasis."

Perceptor gave a small chuckle of thought. "That sounds divine."

Wheeljack shifted them both in an angle that he knew would work. It was strange, but added much more kinkiness. Perceptor couldn't hold it; he moaned with almost every thrust, having not been in this angle for _eons..._ Wheeljack couldn't help the soft gasps as he was about to come, thrusting harder with his lover's encouragements.

His servo grasped Perceptor's spike, pumping it fast, the microscope crying out as they panted. He usually was never... horny... like this, but Wheeljack was making it too amazing. He started to buck, just on the edge of overload, his cries getting louder and louder until Wheeljack stopped everything.

"What are you doing?" Perceptor nearly growled.

"Sending you into stasis."

"Not torturing..."

"It's the only way," he smirked. "You'll love it."

"Oh... oh... Wheel... ja..." was all he could manage as Wheeljack started thrusting as fast as he could, one arm propped up on the berth as the other held Perceptor's leg away from his panel. "I... Primus!"

He growled as Wheeljack stopped again, moaning as he started pumping him again. This continued for at least a cycle, Wheeljack cleverly dragging out the overload like a pro, even if Perceptor hated him for it. He did nothing but thrust his spike, hard and rough, deeper and deeper as Perceptor yelled at him, shivering in pleasure at Percy's agape lips.

He couldn't contain himself as Perceptor cried out continuously, vocals increasing in volume until he finally screamed. Wheeljack had to hold himself up as Perceptor bucked wildly, crying out to Primus as he overloaded too hard. Wheeljack groaned, unable to stop as transfluid filled the microscope all the way, burst after burst of immense pleasure, his overload so hot it caused him pain.

_Primus,_ they hadn't overloaded like this since when they first got bonded...

Perceptor was still writhing as Wheeljack settled down, knowing his was _nothing_ compared to his. After his moans lessened and his lips closed a little more, Wheeljack leaned down and licked the tip of his spike, sucking off the copious amount of transfluid that had spurted out uncontrollably.

Perceptor whimpered again at the touch, and his servos released from clutching onto Wheeljack so tightly, as his optics offlined and his systems shut down.

Wheeljack smiled to himself at his success; he looked to Perceptor and kissed his neck, helm fins glowing slowly as his systems returned to their normal state. He lowered Perceptor's legs and helm so he just rested on the berth, leaving and returning and wiping away the transfluid and closing their panels. He threw the wash cloth in the sink of their wash room and joined his bondmate, easily slipping into recharge snuggled up to the mech.


End file.
